Staining the Sand
by Tony Floyd
Summary: A story of love and violence in the old west. Tidus is an outcast, a lonley wanderer who stumbles across a string of massacres wrought by the psychopathic Revrend Guado, and develops romantic feelings for a survivor he encounters.
1. The Prostitute and the Wild Man

**Staining the Sand**

by Tony Floyd

Chapter 1: The Prostitute and the Wild Man.

As he sat in the still water and admired its gleaming, crystal perfection, Tidus realized that there was no more a beautiful time than the night. He stirred the pool of stars in which he bathed with a long skinny finger and exhaled deeply. It was so quiet out here. The raucous yells and hoots from the tavern could still be heard, and the smell of fornication and liquor was still fresh on his body. But out here, he was safe. Alone with the moon and the stars and the water, his own tranquil paradise. Heaven to the hellish chaos behind him. Tidus shifted. The water was now nearly as cold as the night itself. Could it have been that long already?

_Yes. You drank too much you damned fool. _

He gripped the sides of the bath and felt the splintered wood dig into his hands, hoisting himself up and letting the cold water rush off his body. He staggered only for a moment and swung one long leg over the side of the bath, stepping onto the hard, dry earth, already darkening for the stray droplets that still ran down his body. He waited until he had dried some more and went to the lantern for his clothes, only to find that they weren't there.

_Goddamnit. _

But before he could go any further, a smooth female hand came to rest on his chest, followed by another which reached below his waist.

"Why are you getting dressed so fast?" the female voice purred.

Tidus gently shrugged the hands off. "Rikku, I ain't in no mood."

He turned to the bare blonde beauty behind him and accidentally stared for a moment or two. If he wasn't so tired and preoccupied, she'd have easily tempted her favorite customer. Now though, her blue eyes that were mirror images of his own were obedient and apologetic.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry baby. I was just thinkin' we could go to sleep together."

"We already done that. And you and I know sleep ain't got a whole lot to do with it when you and I lay down."

She reached to the ground behind herself and came up again with a bundle of ratty clothes which Tidus gently took from her. Rikku looked at the ground in silence, and before Tidus dressed himself, he took his coat and gently wrapped it around her naked body. This fragile little goddess was only seventeen – only two years younger than Tidus himself. He'd always taken care of her and had a place in his heart where he even treasured her, and though her line of business wasn't really the kind that promised friendship, their relationship was close and caring.

"You wanna come inside for a drink a somethin'?"

Tidus coughed as he pulled his shirt over rugged shoulders. "I already drunk my fill."

He reached into his pockets and produced a roll of bills.

"I didn't take none," she said to him. "You know you ain't got to pay."

Tidus drew up two bills from the roll and replaced them in his pocket before moving closer to Rikku and pressing the remains into her hand.

"Well you could've." he said. "You go find yourself somethin' nice to eat."

Rikku began shaking her head. "Aw, baby I can't take-"

"Just take it, girl. I'm givin't to you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll come back and see you in a week or so."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"I got to find work someplace." Tidus knelt so that he could pull on his boots.

"Oh."

Rikku looked away again, and Tidus gently pulled her towards himself, kissing her on her forehead. After that, he turned away and made for the tree where he'd strung up his horse.

The sun had risen full in the sky now, the orange and purple bits gone; the mountains and trees that it had risen behind looked a lot less dark and ominous. He'd rode southeast for about a good two hours with Cid's legs working overtime, and got himself into some greener country. The grass grew in messy or dead patches, but the trees were tall and strong and invaluable, the shade they provided like little shelters from the hot and sweaty hell that had become the day.

A few more hours on he found a little set of ruins that looked like a promising place to spend the night. They consisted of a stone wall; long, and about a meter and a half wide, broken and bent over backwards about 6, maybe 7 meters up, it was hard to tell. Beside that a little ways over was a cabin that flew colors that were ripped and torn, and the cabin itself was shot full of holes. A few vultures poked around in the sand and the grass. Tidus coughed into his sleeve and demanded that Cid move closer and so they did, creeping no faster than a cat sneaking up on an unsuspecting mouse. Both could see the house easily now, and Tidus gave a tug on the reigns and for a minute or two they just sat there.

_Somethin' ain't right. _

The door was open, latch blown off by whoever had shot the damn place to hell. Beneath him, Cid grunted uneasily and staggered a bit, causing rocks to crumble and clock their way down the hill they sat perched on. Tidus stroked his main softly.

"You hold still."

He waited until Cid was calmer and sat up again, eyes never leaving the destruction in front of him.

_Goddamn. _

He ran his fingertips gently across the light beard on his chin. If someone was in there, he would have enough time to bring up a pistol and shoot the bastard from here. But if he was the one to venture inside, there's no telling who or how many could be waiting in there to blow his head off.

_Easy, Tidus. _He told himself. _That's just you imagination runnin' wild. Ain't nothin' in there. _

He slowly reached into the bag that hung loosely from his shoulder and drew from it a silver six-shooter, pulling back the hammer as he slipped it into the beaten holster on his right thigh. Then, breathing in and out slowly, he kicked Cid in the sides and they ventured forward.

The door swung open and banged loudly, scattering the vultures and provoking Tidus to draw his pistol with lightning speed. Out from the doorway ran a naked man. He was old, probably in his late forties, and a long, graying beard hung upon his chin.

"At last!" he bellowed, bowing before Tidus, who had lowered his pistol. "Has god finally sent his angel to pass me on to death?"

"What are you talkin' about, man?"

The man rose and quickly ran over to Tidus. "Please! Waste no time, angel! Send me on to my lord and let all be forgiven!"

He reached for Tidus' face, who quickly arched away.

"Man, I don't know what you're on about," Tidus said. "What happened here?"

"Did you not witness it? The slaughter brought on by the false prophet?"

"The false what?"

"Please angel," the man said, cupping his hands together under his chin, "end my life! I am ready!" The man let loose a horrible, wheezy sob.

"Lookit, sir, I said I don't know what the hell yer on about. I ain't no-"

The man suddenly lurched at Tidus and got both hands around the pistol that sat on his lap and jerked it towards his face. On instinct, Tidus fired. The bullet caught the old man in the right corner of his forehead, sending a gout of brains and blood spewing into the air behind him and leaving a gaping, bloody hole that Tidus could've stuck his thumb through. The man's eyes went blank and he fell to the ground, an odd half-smile on his face. Tidus wiped some blood from his eye, leaned over the other side of Cid, and vomited.


	2. The Contract

Chapter 2: The Contract.

The sun was beginning to duck behind the mountains in the distance, a barley detectable color of orange already foreshadowing the coming of the night. Tidus dragged the old man behind the cabin and buried him next to an old well that a lone vulture sat atop, watching him quietly while he dug up the hard, dry earth and tossed it into the air behind him. Even when he went to the well himself to fill a bucket for Cid, the bird never moved, black eyes still scrutinizing him.

On his way back to the restless horse he poked his head inside the cabin window, and the family of mutilated, naked corpses and that awful stench of death had been enough to make him stumble backwards a little ways, water sloshing out of the bucket in his hands. Only then did the vulture fly away, shattering the silence with the beat of his dark wings and shrill, foul call. Tidus caught his breath and coughed into his sleeve.

_That better've been the whiskey, because I don't need you goin' soft on me, now. _

The taste of vomit still hung on his lips, and for a moment he put the bucket down and drank graciously from his canteen, dipping his head back so he could let the water spill over his hot, scarred face, and when he was finished he didn't bother wiping his arm on his sleeve but just let it dry slowly, savoring it's slight chill. He closed his eyes and repeated the image of the man's head blowing off in his mind about six times, until he was positive of immunity to it. Coughing, he began to walk again. He could usually make it from Besaid to Luca in a day's journey, if he rode fast.

_No reason at all to waste time. _

Back at the front of the cabin he came across a dog, sitting silently the house. His fur was a light brown and a lot frizzier than most dogs Tidus had seen. He was a creature of about seventy pounds, innocent looking despite his size. Tidus knelt slowly and reached out towards the animal, letting his fingertips brush against a wet black nose.

"You alright there, boy?"

The dog looked at him for a moment with uncertainty. He tilted his head to one side, and then once again turned his eyes to the ground. Tidus looked him over and saw that for some reason, the creature hadn't been injured.

"I ain't gonna hurt you."

Tidus reached his hand out a bit further and touched the dogs head, scratching it a little before easing his whole self closer, so that he could pet the creature down his back. The dog gave Tidus' hand a little lick when he pulled it away, taking off some of the sand and creating a tongue shaped portion of a different color. Tidus reached into his sack and withdrew a biscuit which he set at the ground in front of the animal, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the dog suddenly jump to his feet in fascination. He watched it prod the white oval with his paws before lowering his head and eating it, and after the mutt had finished he let it drink from the bucket, and got up to leave.

He rode on with the colored sun setting beside him like an ominous ticking clock, a painful reminder that the night was on its way and that there was no time to loose. All the while, the wild man's words echoed in his head. "False prophet?" Tidus supposed any man of god to bring forth a slaughter like that would have to be. But men of god were as abundant as whores are in brothels, and the word of a bare-ass wild man wasn't a particularly favorable one.

When he got into Luca the sun was long gone and navigation was reliant on man-made light and the yells and laughs and passionate moans that filled the air like some wild choir in a church of the devil. Luca is likely the safest town around regularly; but in the night when all the bad people who hide from the day while the rich folk prowl come out and hit the bad places it comes alive in all the ways god doesn't want it to. Tidus didn't mind. It made no difference to him.

He led Cid into the stable behind Auron's house and he could already see the great giant eying him through the window, working a cloth with his hands. Tidus passed a gentle wave that wasn't returned and made his way back around to the front of the house where Auron was already waiting with the door open. He peered down on Tidus with that dark left eye of his, the other permanently shut tight due to a deep scar that ran over it.

"You're back already?" His tone was calm and firm as usual but his voice still boomed like thunder and the strange accent he was so well known for had Tidus staring at his boots within seconds.

"I'm lookin' for more work."

Auron hurried him in the door and gently shoved him into the kitchen. He directed his hand at one of the two chairs which were hosted by a thick oak table.

"Sit."

Tidus did as he was told, and he waited patiently until Auron did the same. He looked over the man before him with an honest admiration and respect that he never spoke of as it was plain clear in his eyes. Auron was the closest thing Tidus ever had to a father, and it was he who had raised him when Jehct died of tuberculosis. He owed Auron plenty, and their relationship was a silent, mutual understanding that both were undoubtedly proud of.

"How've you been keeping?" Auron asked.

"Pretty fine, I reckon."

"But you already need more money?"

"Yessir."

"What happened to the money you made last week?"

"I spent it."

"I know that. _How_ did you spend it."

Tidus busied himself by coughing into his sleeve. Auron tilted his head.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"So how did you spend your money?"

"I gave it to a friend of mine. To help her."

"Which friend?"

"Rikku."

"The whore?"

"That don't make no difference about anything."

"No?"

"No sir. We're friends. She takes care of me and she's a real nice girl."

"I see."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just what I said."

"Okay."

Auron brought his hands to his face and massaged his brow for a moment before speaking again.

"Do you know Reverend Braska?"

"Up on the Bevelle ranch?"

"That's the one."

"Of course. He's mighty poperlar."

"_Popular_."

"Right, popular."

"He thinks he's got a couple bandits camped out there. Asked if I could send somebody to investigate."

"Why doesn't he go do it?"

"He has a family to defend and work to do."

"You don't got nothin' else for me?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Tidus sighed. He'd been hoping for something with a little more adventure.

"Well I guess I'll see to him." He stood and thanked Auron, who said nothing for a moment.

"And where are you going?" he asked.

"To get a room, I reckon."

Auron shook his head and gave a little smile, which was not in his nature.

"What?" Tidus asked.

"Come off it. Stay here tonight, we can eat breakfast tomorrow."

Inside, Tidus' heart gave a leap of victory. "Yessir. Thank you sir."

"You don't have to call me sir."

"I know. I like to."

"I've noticed."

Tidus smiled at Auron now, and nodded his head toward the stairs.

"Do you mind if I go to sleep now?"

"Not at all."

"Okay. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Tidus."


	3. A Survivor

Hey folks, many thanks to those of you who've subscribed to this. Please give me some feedback on what you think so far!

- _Tony _

* * *

Chapter 3: A Survivor.

He woke with the sun and to the sound of Auron banging pots and cupboards below him, and it felt like no time at all had passed since his head hit the pillow. He sat up a bit too fast and his head hurt for a moment, still recovering from the dreams populated by Rikku and the wild man and the bleak things in his imagination that had no name.

"Damn," he said, and then he nodded as if in agreement with himself.

He stretched and yawned and for a minute he just sat there, inhaling the old aroma that hung in the room and letting memories of childhood flow through his head. Not a lot of them were great memories, but he had been an innocent kid then. Life had been simple and without questions; this dark world of flowing scarlet rivers and the beauty between a woman's thighs, of drunkards and smooth-talkers and lawmen and Indians and smoking six-shooters; it had all been kept away from him. And now that world had swallowed him whole, and he didn't know what he was fighting for or why he worked so hard to survive, new thoughts that became more and more imminent to him as the days went on.

Downstairs bacon sizzled in the pan Auron held, and a glass of goat milk sat at Tidus' spot along with a plate that had two steaming eggs sitting on it.

"Sleep well?"

"Pretty decent."

"Are you planning on leaving right after you eat?"

"I reckon."

They ate in silence, Tidus savoring the first hot meal he'd had all week, and Auron's mind clearly somewhere else. They played cards once they had finished, with Auron winning both times as usual, and after this Tidus thanked him and made for the door.

"You got a hat?" Auron called after him.

"No sir."

"What the hell do you do when it rains?"

"It ain't been raining."

Auron shook his head in disbelief and pointed to a wide brown one on a rack that Tidus recognized instantly.

"Take that one."

Tidus' mouth fell open in shock. "Aw, hell sir, I couldn't take that one! It's yer fav-"

"Take it," Auron repeated. "You need it more than I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Tidus looked over the hat and brushed his fingers over it as if it were some sort of mythical artifact that he was privileged to touch. Slow, and unsure, he lifted it up by the brim and gently placed it on his head. Auron smiled from his seat.

"It suits you."

Tidus wasn't sure what to say. He was still caught off guard. "...Thank you sir."

"You better get going if you want to make Bevelle."

"Yessir."

He rode south out of town, opposite the way he came in. Things got grimmer, down that way. He saw a corpse on a doorstep, pale, eyes rolled back in his head, flies buzzing around the charred, crimson flesh on his stomach where a bullet had forced through. He saw a blind man clawing for his stick in the dirt, which someone had broken in two. He saw an old man and a little girl walking down the street, him clinging to her hand and holding her close as if he was the waif, looking nervously all around them. The little girl just smiled and laughed and talked, the portrait of innocence in a part of town where innocence didn't exist.

The sun was still high up when he got out of Luca, and it beat down on him relentlessly, searing his already burnt flesh and causing him to drink from his canteen more than usual. He stopped after awhile and looked about at the scorching pale ground and dying plants. He took an apple from his bag and bit into it and let the juices run down his chin for a moment before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

_Shit. _

He spat and tipped his hat back a little ways and sighed.

_This is goin' to take a helluva lot longer'n I thought. _

Sometimes as he rode he would close his eyes and shut out the sun and the sweat and the thirst from his mind and imagine the sea. He'd only ever seen it once in his whole life; Auron had taken him to the edge of Spira when he was just a lad and shown him the great blue giant that spilled out into the rest of the world, lapping against the shore in those soft, simple beats. A symphony of tranquility. There was no bias, no emotion, no interpretation in those waves. They represented nothing. They just were. Hopefully someday he'd see them again.

There were trees on the horizon that promised of the Bevelle ranch. It wouldn't be long now.

As he guided Cid up the little slope that the ranch sat upon, Tidus noticed something odd. Crawling up the slope beside them was a dog that looked identical to the one he'd seen after his run in with the wild man. He nearly swore it was the same one.

_Come on, dumbass. That don't make no sense. How in the sam hell could he have got himself all the way out here? _

The bizarre trio trudged over the hill like wounded soldiers and Tidus took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his face, and as he did so he glanced up and a horrific sight met his eyes. Spread out on the ground like a blanket a little ways in front of him was Braska, who was fully naked, and the dark rivers of blood that had been flowing from his forehead and where his genitals used to be were still fresh, pooling in neat little puddles next to him. His face was frozen permanently in the expression of a scream. Tidus breathed deeply and kept riding.

Braska's wife was leaned against the barn next to a smear of blood that ran clockwise down the building's side. A knife stuck out of her ribcage and blood was still caked around her mouth and underneath her there were tiny droplets where she had spat it out.

When he got to the front of the house he dismounted and the dog sat in the dirt and let his tongue hang out and bounce around. He gently touched a hand to the door and gave it a gentle push. The house had been untouched. Chairs sat neatly around a dinner table, which was surrounded by unopened cupboards. Tidus shook his head and gripped his chest because it had started hurting. He kept walking into the perfect home and glancing back out the door at the perfect family that had been destroyed outside it. On one such glace, his foot caught the leg of one of the chairs and he tripped and fell to the floor.

It was then in the cupboard beside him that there came a little squeak of fear, a small, feminine noise that made him turn his head. He eased himself up slowly, and gently pulled upon the golden handle and watched as a young girl was revealed.

She looked about his age. Chestnut hair fell to her shoulders and crowned a pair of big eyes that were different colors. Her face was smooth and innocent but streaked with tears. Tidus stared at this beautiful, innocent creature and almost began to cry himself.

"Mister, please don't shoot me."


	4. A Beautiful Creature

Chapter Four. Please tell me what you think, folks! - Tony

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Chapter 4: A Beautiful Creature

He sat in the dark and watched the flickering light of his dying candle dance on her face as she slept. She didn't turn in the thick blankets he'd taken from the house, and she slept soundlessly, the thick paths on her cheeks where tears had been flowing steadily now dry like the earth she lay on. Her mouth which was fenced by a small, pretty set of lips hung open. He looked at the beauty in front of him until his eyes threatened of tears and he then turned to his left and spat in the dirt and adjusted her blankets so she would be more comfortable. After this he stood and ventured into the night once more, leaving her concealed in the cave like the trophy of some mythical beast.

He retraced the steep path he had led the weeping girl across when it had still been day, with his hand cupped over her face and her tears trickling down his hand. He raised his head and propped up his hat and in the distance he could see two roadrats with blades, one sawing into the flesh under Braska's thick mane of hair, both cackling maniacally as if death were some grand joke too few could truly appreciate. Behind them the shed Braska's wife must have been running for as she was killed was ablaze. As he came upon them the glow of a lantern guided his way, and the crying girl's haunting beauty compelled him towards his targets with blinding rage. The first who was now dragging the dead lady by the ankles Tidus shot in the temple, resulting in a vomit of blood and brains, staining the ground dark with gore. The second man was shot in the throat, and as the roadrat dropped his stained blade into the sand he gave a gurgled cry and his neck erupted in a messy geyser of crimson. Tidus then retrieved the fallen weapon, took up the still screaming thief by the hair and scalped him alive with his own knife. Then he dropped the limp body, went over to the dead man's comrade and scalped him as well.

He breathed for a minute and sighed the devil out of him, and threw the hairy slabs of flesh to the ground. There was silence for a few moments now, as the gunsmoke and pink mist gradually retreated from the air. He cleaned the knife on the shirt of the first victim and pocketed it in his bag, then preceded to take each of the mutilated corpses by the lapels with his left hand, frisking them the while with his right. On the first body he found a gold plated pistol and forty-two dollars in bills, and on the second he found nothing but a cheap blade hosted by rotting wood. He dragged the two fresh cadavers to the shed and tossed them into the flaming wreckage and he stood and watched for a moment as bloody flesh seared and bubbled and melted. He left the rotting, violated carcasses of Braska and his wife on the plain for he didn't feel he had the right to move them, and he turned around and began his trek back towards the cave.

_I reckon they'll be the last visitors. _

He awoke in the cave with a bit of a start and looked around himself with confusion until his memory caught up with his eyes. The girl was still asleep to the far left, her position unchanged. He exhaled and shifted and reached for his canteen, and as he did so she shot up faster than he had and he froze mid reach and turned his head to look at her. She looked around herself and Tidus wondered if she was going to start crying again, but it seemed as though she was through.

"How are you doing?" He asked her, trying hard to keep his rough voice gentle.

"Better, maybe."

"Really?"

"Maybe."

"So quickly?"

She propped herself up a bit. "Both of them were pretty mean to me. Hit me a lot. But they were my folks, y'know?"

"It's fine if you need to cry more," Tidus told her. "You got every right to be sad."

"It ain't them dying that really gets me going," The girl said, looking at the floor instead of him. "It's the fact that he came out of nowhere and killed 'em for apparently no reason in particular."

Tidus became determined. "Who? Who was it?"

"Reverend Guado of Besaid."

And then it was though someone had clubbed Tidus over the head with a rock because his face went blank and his eyes went dead as memories of the calm, long haired, quiet priest from his childhood began to pollute his mind. Holding the hands of tiny children, kissing widows on their heads. The girl seemed to take note of his reaction because she asked next if Tidus knew the man she meant and he said yes. He asked her if she wanted to go back to the house and she shook her head and said that she had no reason to.

"Well where do you reckon you're gonna stay? Ain't very comfortable in here." He gestured to the barren, sandy floor of rock around them.

"I think I'll go to Luca."

"Luca?"

"Luca."

"Why?"

"I got relatives up that way."

"Luca's just where I come from."

"Really?"

"Yes mamn."

She nodded, and Tidus tilted his head as he looked at her.

"Do you got a horse?"

"...No. I reckon I could buy one at one of the halfway towns."

"Don't be a fool, girl. You can ride with me."

"I don't know."

"You don't?"

"Well I guess I'd like it. I'd feel safer, if you get my meaning."

"I get yer meanin'. Do you got a name?"

"Yuna."

He'd given her his hand and pulled her to his feet and told her he was going back to the house to see if there was anything he could scavenge and he asked her if that was alright and she said yes. Then he asked her what he should do with the bodies, and he saw tears tugging at her multi-colored eyes that he now saw were of blue and green and he told her not to worry about it. Then he put a hand on her arm reluctantly for a moment and made her a promise without even saying so.

"I'm gonna look after you."

She looked up from the floor and dabbed at her eyes with her small hands and nodded at him, and with that he turned back towards the killing grounds with his bag over one shoulder.

He found an old double-barrel in the house that had no strap and two boxes of ammo that he slipped into the bag, and he then looted cupboards for food and packed in whatever he could find until the bag was so heavy that the strap bore into his shoulder a little, and he walked back outside with the rifle in his fist.

They rode out past the ranch with Yuna grooved into his crotch and she had blushed a little at first and Tidus had drawn his mind to other thinks to keep himself from getting aroused. As they rode past where the bodies lay Yuna had turned to the left and Tidus cupped his hand over her eyes again and he thought he might have felt a single tear.

The out of the foilage and trees and plants and came upon the empty, sprawling tan landscape, and it was then that she began to sweat and she would occasionally wipe her face with her hand and then wipe her hand on the purple leg of her dress, and the white top she wore was also wet and clung to her back and sometimes when Cid went over a stone she would fall back on him and cling to his chest for a moment as well. As they rode sometimes he would ask her if she needed to stop or if she wanted a break, and she would always turn her head so that he could just see the right side of her face that held the green eye and say no and that it was alright, and he would nod and they would ride on when all she really had needed to do was shake her head.

The sun was beginning to duck behind the mountains.

"We should probably stop at night, shouldn't we?"


	5. Flames of Investment

Chapter 5: Flames of Investment

The fire spat and crackled as he prodded it with a little stick, and as she watched she would yawn and cover her mouth and apologize and he would tell her it was okay. The desert was now engulfed in darkness, and sometimes all he could see were her eyes; those pretty sparkling gems of blue and green. He looked at her with fascination and awe he hadn't felt since he was a little boy. He felt, fuzzy, inside. He turned his eyes back to the fire.

"Why were you looking at me, just there?"

He felt a pang of embarrassment, and he thanked god for the darkness because his face must've been beat red. For a moment he said nothing, trying to think of a simple apology. But he wanted no more of the awkward small talk that the night had been spent on; He wanted to be straight with her.

"I think you're really pretty, is all." He tried to look at her as he said it but he could feel his face turning red and he saw hers flush as well so he hung his head.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"...That's really sweet. No one's ever really told me that."

At this he regarded her with a look of madness. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He didn't respond to that one. Instead he just looked into her flaming eyes and held their gaze for what felt like eternity and in his own pair he tried with difficulty to emulate the confusion and warmth and passion he'd felt in the three-odd days he'd known her. He'd never been good at reading people, but he thought he saw something reflected, something that told him she understood. Or maybe he was just imagining it, because after that moment which now seemed so brief in retrospect they both turned returned to the flames and said nothing.

The next time she yawned he announced that he was going to pitch the tent, and she told him she was alright and that he didn't have to but he told her it had to be done. The mundane task distracted him accordingly from his stained and bruised heart, and when she asked if she could help he almost felt disappointed.

That night as they lay side by side he couldn't sleep because his mind still was far from ease. What place was there for someone like her, in this dark miserable world he'd known? Could so pretty a flower possibly thrive in this scorching desert of sand stained dark with blood and tears? He rolled over in his blankets and looked at her again. He wondered if she found him a complete idiot. This was likely, even if she did seem too kind a girl for that type of harshness. He'd ruined any chance he could have ever had completely. He closed his eyes.

"...Tidus?"

They shot open again.

"Yes, Yuna?"

"I wanted to thank you for saying I was pretty, I don't think I did when you told me..."

"I thought you did..."

"Really?"

"Well, your welcome anyhow, but damn girl, your manners are _too_ good."

Even in the darkness and tiredness of the night the two were more than able to share a laugh.

"That ain't a bad thing!"

"Well, I wasn't sayin' it was. It's who you are, and you got no sense in tryin' to change that."

"No?"

"No mamn."

She giggled a little.

"You say my manners are too good...if I had a quarter for every time you called me 'mamn'..."

"Well yours are so good that I figured I ought to be damn polite in return."

Once they stopped laughing she spoke again.

"Don't call me mamn anymore though. Just Yuna."

"Okay. Was it bothering you?"

"No, no. It just, doesn't sound like something you'd call your friend."

They packed and rode out the same way they'd ridden in only the atmosphere had changed much as they now talked and laughed, and Tidus kept Cid at a gentle trot. She would still turn her head when he was speaking to her, and he would still get lost in her big eyes.

A good while after they'd resumed their trek Tidus heard the rhythmic plodding of a horses hooves behind them and he told Yuna to get off the horse and lay falt and she did and he drew the double-barrel and lept off the horse himself and waited. They had higher ground, and by the sounds of things he could be coming right towards them. He got up once more and yanked the great white mare to the ground with some difficulty and held him there.

"Yuna."

"What is it?"

"We still have a minute, get up and grab one of the pistols from my bag, and if this sumbitch does anything to me you shoot him right in the head and don't think twice."

"Okay," she said, though he could tell she didn't like the sound of it, and when she came back with Tidus' gray six-shooter it looked awkward and clumsy in her hands.

The unknown rider burst out of the forested perimeter that encircled the great tan landscape and rode directly at them. Tidus swore. He should have been smart and stuck off to the sides, in the trees.

_Stupid bastard. _

He had been too busy thinking about her.

_Stupid bastard. Do you want her to die? _

The rider was definitely coming straight down the middle of the plain and he wasn't slowing down, which either meant he was in a hurry and had no time for them or he was a speed devil. Neither would be much in their favor if the bastard didn't veer off their course a little. Tidus kept his hands firm on the smooth stock of the double-barrel and Yuna was watching him and he wasn't changing direction and he wasn't slowing down, and the clomping was getting closer and closer.

_Oh hell._

Tidus raised the shotgun and fired a warning shot into the air and as the great crack echoed into the air and the smoke faded as he took cover behind the same rock Yuna had and waited as he heard the man jump off his fussing steed and bury himself in the sand and he heard a weapon cock. For a moment or two there was silence, just the tripped yellow dirt scattering in the wind as both parties breathed heavily.

"Hello?"

Tidus cleared his throat and yelled back: "Hello yerself."

"I reckon we're both waiting on each other to make a move."

"That seems to be the situation."

"Do you aim to shoot me, son?"

"That would depend entirely upon your motives, stranger."

"Right." He heard the man spit.

"Y'all armed?" Tidus called.

"I tend to have somethin' ready fer when young fellers like yerself take shots at me."

"I wasn't shootin' _at_ you Mister. And if you ain't workin' for Guado, I got no quarrel with ye."

"Trouble is, I could say no and you'd think I was lyin'."

Tidus rolled his eyes. "Well goddammit man, are you workin' for that two-faced sonofabitch?"

"No."

"Well why don't you get back on your horse and clear off."

"How do I know you ain't gonna put a bullet in my ass?"

"Suppose I'm co-operatin' with ye."

"I got a wife with a kid on the way, lad. You pull any nonsense and god'll be sendin' you straight to hell."

"Mister, I don't aim to shoot you."

"Alright."

With some hesitation, Tidus heard the man slowly mount his horse and speed off as fast as he'd come, and he and Yuna both slowly raised to their feet. Her eyes were even bigger than usual and she looked out of breath.

"What if he _was_ one of them?

Tidus thought about spitting but decided against it. "Then he was a very good actor." He sighed and turned toward the trees that were now far behind them, tops scraping the belly of a descending yellow sun.

_Did we sleep in?_


	6. Doubts and Nightmares

_Hey guys,_ _sorry that waits_ _are getting longer, but never fear, I will finish it. _

_Bit of a reversal here, FFX fans will find... I think it worked quite well, but let me know how you feel._

_- Tony_

* * *

Chapter 6: Doubts and Nightmares

He stumbled into the saloon with his eyes wild and staring, out of breath and exhausted. Sweat had made his clothes cling to him and the front of his shirt was torn open and his blond hair hung down so far over his eyes it was odd he could even see.

"Reverend!"

There was no answerer. A few heads turned momentarily from their drinks.

The man cocked his head and sucked back air and tried again, louder. "REVEREND!"

"I'm over here, Charlie."

"Where!?"

"By the piano, damn it. Enough of your hooting."

The second speaker dipped his head back and let his long white hair seep down his back like crawling tentacles and drank handsomely as the former walked to him hurriedly and planted his feet when he was right next to him. He just stood there for a few moments, the look of madness not yet vacated and the sick smell of sweat and snot and dried blood causing some of the surrounding drinkers to wrinkle their noses in disgust. The old man turned his head finally, bringing his glass gently to the table as he did so.

"Can I help you?"

"I think I found her, Reverend."

"What?"

"The family up in Bevelle yonder. You said there was a girl but we couldn't find her. I'm sayin' I think I just did."

There was a pause and the saloon grew silent.

"Where?"

"Close. I reckon they're comin' here."

"Did you kill her?"

Heads turned. Eyes grew.

"Well, she was with this young sumbitch, got the jump on-"

"Did. You. Kill. Her."

Silence.

"Answer my damn question, boy."

"No, Reverend."

The Reverend's lips curved into a thin smile and he kicked away the table and drinks flew and the liquids wobbled in midair before plummeting to the ground and the Reverend drew back the hammer on a large pistol and shot the boy right through the left eye, spinning him round and landing him in a heap on the floor. No one moved as blood pooled slowly and spread to tease the tips of boots and table legs and bar-stools, and the Reverend replaced the pistol under his poncho and walked right through the miniature sea until he reached the door.

"Boys, we are leaving now."

He replaced his hat and stepped out the door, and as he did men rose from all four corners of the room; some white, some black, some Mexican, some Apache, all toting guns and torn clothes, some adorned with scalps and some with spattered blood. They all left the silent saloon and the other customers watched them do so, and it wasn't until they had all mounted their horses and rode out of town that any man spoke.

"Sweet Jesus. That was about the goddamn scariest pile of maggot shit I've seen my whole life."

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the room.

* * *

_He dreamed that he was naked in some great arena, strung up to a great steaming bag of shit that was at least four times as big as he was. A tall, grim man he didn't know stood behind him, cracking a bullwhip across his blood-smeared back and laughing in a dim chuckle as Tidus tried without success to heave the great turd. Atop a thick stone pillar to the north of the arena was Yuna, who stood naked and blank faced, and even as he called out to her in desperation to run and to get away her face remained empty, and rough greasy men would mount the pillar and take turns violating her without struggle, laughing as they did so. Sometimes he would vomit and as that cackling bastard whipped his back he would have to trudge through his own waste and he could feel it squishing between his toes. He eventually stopped trying to call out to the girl, but he never stopped crying, and the men that filled the seats in the arena would laugh at him and spit on him and piss on him, and he marveled at their black hearts and mean faces, at the preposterously cruel and wretched world they inhabited. Eventually he stopped walking and pulling and let the whip hit his back, choosing to cast one last look at the girl he'd failed to save. The beast's trophy. A dark figure by the sunrise. Then he collapsed in the dirt. _

He shot awake with a bit of a cry and he could hear her shift beside him. He wiped his face calmly and breathed, watching his chest rise and fall as drops of sweat stained the blankets. She was turned over on her side when he looked at her and he knew she needed her sleep, so he stood up and exited the tent as quietly as he possibly could.

He sat in the dirt in the quiet darkness with his eyes closed, his legs crossed beneath him.

_I am alone. _

_I am safe._

_She is safe. _

He breathed. His promise to her repeated endlessly in his head.

_As it should, asshole. As it damn well should. _

He opened his eyes, and they were met with the large white animal that was one of his oldest friends, currently looking into the eyes of his rider with something that felt like concern.

"Oh, what are you on about?"

The animal turned his head and looked over at the black outline of the trees just ahead of them, tiny glints against the great orange body of the rising sun.

_I'm tired. _

_Well shit, that makes sense, don't it? _

_I'm worried._

_That's because you're a damn coward. _

_I love her._

_That ain't worth a goddamn half-dollar, 'cause she sure as shit don't love you. _

He closed his eyes again and clenched his fists. His fists were angry, weapons ready for violence, but his face remained calm. His eyes remained closed.

_I am alone._

_I am safe._

_She is safe. _

Footsteps. Crunching on rock, dirt, dead grass. Soft crunching. Tiny crunching. Beautiful crunching. Silence.

"Is that you Yuna?"

"...Yes. Am I interrupting you?"

"No, no."

She came closer, and he turned his head and saw her little feet come to a halt right beside him.

_She's so small. She's so fragile. She's so damn pretty. _

He looked up at her and forced a smile and she smiled back and sat down beside him.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Some bad dreams I reckon."

"Really?"

"Yes mamn."

_I love the way she says really. It's so pretty._

"What are your dreams about?"

He looked at the rising sun.

"...I don't know if I should tell ye."

She took his rough, great hand from his lap and folded it in her smaller ones gently and as she did so his face went red.

"You can tell me, its okay. I wanna help you."

He sighed and turned his head to the orange giant. He didn't have the strength to look into her eyes as he spoke.

_God, her eyes. I forgot all about her eyes._

"They're all about you, see," he said, stuttering lightly. "I like you a helluva lot, more'n I've liked anyone, I think, ever. I've never been with someone like you, talked with someone like you, and I reckon if I traveled this whole goddamn world I'd still never find someone as pretty to me as you are. But I know you couldn't feel the same ever."

Tears were coming.

_Hold them in, you weak little goddamn bastard. You call yourself a man?_

"I done and seen some bad things, in my life. Those things have always haunted me'n they always will. But I couldn't take anything bad happening to you. That's why these dreams hurt."

There was silence for a minute or two, and then he felt one of her hands let go of his, and fingertips sequentially brushed against his face, turning it to hers.

"It's okay. I'll be fine with you around."

She drew close to him and he shut his eyes and as he did so the first tear fell and the most beautiful pair of lips he'd ever seen gently came to rest upon his own, slowing down the whole world and lifting his stomach. He brought a hand to her neck and kissed her again and again and she slowly drew his head down into her lap and he looked up at her as she stroked his hair.

_We are alone. _

_She is safe._

_I am safe. Because she is protecting me. _


	7. At Noon Every Sunday

Final Chapter: At Noon Every Sunday

Thirteen years pass and the man has a full beard of the same yellow that hangs on his scalp. The woman has been buried for five of these years in front of the house and the marker is weather beaten and the letters have faded slightly and he still changes the flowers at noon every Sunday. He misses her dearly and still cries for her occasionally when he knows his son is asleep and will not hear. He comforts himself that she was felled not by bullet or knife or poison, but by a disease he can't pronounce correctly; nature's way. He'd protected her and loved her and she had told him on April the 21st, 1856 that if she was to die, she was to die a happy woman.

The man and his boy can be seen riding into Luca most days where they buy breakfast and visit the local contractor for work and for coffee. Usually the man brings his son along but occasionally he leaves him behind with the contractor and the two men always shake hands and before parting, and every now and then, the contractor will lean forward and clear some of the dirt from the man's hat with a simple swish of his hand.

At night sometimes the man would leave his rifle with the boy and ride out to Besaid, where he would visit a tiny homestead that hosted a retired whore and her husband of three years. Tonight was one such night and the man's mind was still on the child. The chestnut hair that had belonged to his mother was getting long and it hung over his eyes and before he left the man had gently cropped it onto his forehead with his left hand. His dismounts the white steed that is one of his oldest friends as the door opens and a tall thin man emerges with a bright smile.

"Evenin' Tidus."

"Evenin', Cloud. Rikku around?"

"Eh, 'fraid she's sleeping. She says the party's gonna be a long'n and she better rest up for it."

Tidus smiles. "Well, I just wanted to be the first to wish her well." he reaches into the bag strapped to the saddle and retrieves a tin.

"Whatcha got in there?"

"Cookies, actually. Bein' she taught me to actually cook worth a damn, I figured it'd be my way of thankin' her. And sayin' happy birthday, o'course."

Cloud smiles and nods but his smile is a sad one.

"You know it's us that should be thankin' you, still."

Tidus looks up at the star-shot sky and shakes his head.

"You need to stop thinkin' of it that way, friend."

Miles away on the outskirts of Luca, a boy who can't sleep pulls a dresser drawer open and finds a yellowing piece of paper that bestows the face of an old man. Bold lettering reads:

WANTED: REVEREND SEYMOUR GUADO. 10, 000 DOLLAR REWARD.

But the spattered, dented bullet that ended the life of such a demon will remain only in the man's imagination, the last chapter of a past life put away so he could raise his boy.

_Well? I hope you've all enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I thank anyone who has followed, favourited, or offered commentary/criticsism. If you enjoyed this, keep an eye out; I may write a sequal, and if not another chapter-length tale about drugs, I haven't decided yet. _

_Thank you all again,_

_T._


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